


Rides a red horse

by Redrocketeer



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, No Spoilers, Poor poor Cor, Regis and Clarus are rabbits, Semi-Public Sex, Unintentionally public sex, getting caught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 04:45:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10734390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrocketeer/pseuds/Redrocketeer
Summary: This came out of a discussion on Discord.  It's a magical place.





	Rides a red horse

**Author's Note:**

> This came out of a discussion on Discord. It's a magical place.

“Careful, love. Your leg-”  
“Hang my leg! It managed well enough the last two times. Between your shoulders and the wall I have more than enough… leverage… hmmm, _yes_ , that’s it. That’s just it. Hold here, Clarus, just… one moment.”

Regis had his bad leg bent up by Clarus’ hip, the other butted up against the stone wall in the little alcove beside the royal armoury. Clarus stood facing him, one hand under his King’s knee, the other was holding his tip to Regis’ entrance waiting for the instruction to proceed. A heavy curtain bumped against Clarus’ back. It was imperfect cover, not quite reaching the floor, but neither of them had the time to find a more private location nor the restraint to wait until they could.

Decades of desire, respectful waiting, contented marriages, had seen them come to the point where they had been alone at the same time. More, they had been lonely. The old spark had been pushed aside but it had never been extinguished. The moment it had been coaxed out into the open it took off, a raging heat that drew them towards each other as often as they could manage.

That turned out to be quite often indeed.

Carus kissed at Regis’ cheek as he waited, warm lips brushing his liege’s lips, slipping down to his throat. “That tickles,” Regis chuckled, affection in his soft voice.  
“That’s the idea, my love,” Clarus purred, unrepentant.  
“You’re incorrigible,” Regis said as he caught Clarus’ lips and pulled him closer and _into_ him. The shield gasped at the pressure, still a thrill no matter how many times they did it.  
They both just breathed a moment, settling deep, a sliver of bare skin pressed together between heavy fabric all they were allowed.

“I love you, Clarus,” Regis hummed into the space between them, meeting his lover’s eye with determination. “Now move.” 

As always Clarus’ thrusts were deep and strong and calculated to hit in perfect pleasure as quickly as he could manage. They rarely had room to take their time but their hunger made it hardly matter. They _wanted_. They _ached._ Their desires were perfectly matched. 

As they moved together the rest of the world fell away. The pressure Regis carried, the family concerns, politics and hours of tension in crowded rooms washed away. Limbs shifted, fabric rolled back and forth as they tried to hold their voices in best as they could. It was the only sound they noticed.

Which was a pity because what Clarus couldn’t hear and Regis couldn’t see was the curtain sliding back, revealing their slight hiding space. 

“Ah! Hurry, my darling, I’m close… close, ohhhh there! Just there!”  
“Just as you command, Majesty.”  
“Clarus! I’m going to-”

“Two minutes!” The gruff voice cut through the heated air, sober and close and certainly not theirs.  
It was an achingly awkward moment to pause but every ounce of caution in Clarus held him still even if Regis seemed keen to keep going. _”Don’t you dare move!” _he hissed at his lover as he shifted his focus to the matter at hand.__

“Two minutes till what, Marshall?” A shudder went through Clarus at the cool control in Regis’ voice. 

“Two minutes until the recruits come to select their weapons for today’s session, Majesty… Clarus. I don’t know about you but I’d hate for them to grab the wrong thing.” 

Cor’s dry retort was a bucket of cold water on Clarus, but Regis was king and that came with, at least a few, privileges. “Then make it ten minutes and earn the gratitude of your king,” he parried back. 

Cor sighed at that. Expecting them to stop was just too much, he could see. He was a little disappointed he might never win a point against them but he wasn't one to quit easily. 

“As you command,” he confirmed, moving to arrange it and to spare his ears in equal measure 

__“Now move, Clarus! Yes! Yes! Yes, my love! Harder!”_ _

__Sadly he was too late for the latter._ _

__***  
It was easy to divert a group of men and women who were already obligated to follow his orders. Sadly for Cor his unwanted new duty as protector of royal virtue didn’t just call for that and Regis seemed determined to test him._ _

__After two weeks without incident Cor was starting to relax. He was fully focused in his duties, all his interactions with the king and his shield had been proper and professional. They’d been clothed and disengaged from each other, as it had been before they had taken up together._ _

__It wasn’t even that Cor minded. It wasn’t even that he was _surprised._ The spark between Regis and Clarus was old and obvious, at least to their closest friends. To Cor it had been more of a case of _when._ He wasn’t in overt support of it, he was just adept at reading the terrain, which was as well. The only issue was the awkward situations it could put him in._ _

__The Duscae Councillor was a bore of a man who clearly thought because he smiled a lot he could get away with saying anything. Cor was burning to hand his company off and he could, the moment he escorted the man to the king._ _

__Cor didn’t remember the royal antechamber being so far from the front gates and wondered if Regis had had it moves just to annoy him but knew it was really just present company._ _

___“This discontent among the refugees has a very obvious cause and yet the king clearly does little about it. I have to wonder what keeps him so busy,” the rounded man said, clearly fishing. It took all of Cor’s resolve not to either snort or punch the smug man in the face._  
“I am sure he will address all your concerns,” Cor rumbled, the forced politeness making him wince.  
“That’s optimistic of you,” the ambassador said dryly, clearly quite pleased at his own wit.  
Cor took hope in the immediate proximity of the heavy door he was looking for. His trial would soon be over and the ambassador’s would begin. 

__“One moment,” Cor said smoothly, stepping between his guest and the door. “I’ll announce you.”  
_Then I can get as far from here as humanly possible.__ _

___Cor opened the heavy door._  
“ _Ah yes, dear-heart, ride me like a devil mare!_ ”  
Cor closed the heavy door and quietly found a new shade of purple to turn. He swallowed, and hoped the desire to kill didn’t show in his eyes as he turned back to the ambassador. 

__“Apologies. The king is in an urgent meeting with the _war council_. If you will come with me to his office I will order you refreshments. You can wait there until he is free.”_ _

__The ambassador frowned, at least proving that he did have more than one expression. “Alright, but make sure he knows I am here. I have no interest in wasting time.”  
“I will inform him the moment you are settled,” he promised._ _

Cor was far more eager to tell Regis exactly where he could stick his gratitude, provided he could find the room. 

***  
Cor read over the last few items on the inventory and tossed it onto the passenger seat. He wasn’t, by rule, a delivery driver but when a run was long enough to potentially cover the night hours a regular delivery driver would have very little chance of success. 

Cor himself didn’t mind taking to the road from time to time. It was quiet, peaceful, and didn’t call for the kinds of demands that made him want to hair his hair out. Just the open road and the occasional demon. A piece of cake. 

It also gave him a chance to reconnect with the area’s hunter community. They were his sort of people. Brave and pragmatic, tough and simple in their needs. They always appreciated seeing him, too. Maybe their only real contact with the Crown City. Cor hoped it was enough to give them a fair impression of the situation everyone was in. 

He slipped down from the cab to do a final check, testing the tyre pressure and ensuring the headlights worked and their battery was fully charged.  
That was when he heard the tapping.  
The load, from what he’d read, was largely medical in nature. A few small generators and tinned food. Certainly nothing capable of moving on its own. 

He pulled out his sword and moved silently to face the double doors at the rear of the truck. He grabbed the left handle and braced for a possible fight. He tugged and the door swung open. 

__He _wished_ it had been a mugger. He longed for a political prisoner on the hoc. He lowered his sword and didn’t even try and hide his distaste._ _

__“That’s not even hygienic, Majesty!”_ _

__***  
Cor flicked at the corner of his napkin, sipping acerbic coffee with his other hand. His face was a stormcloud. Everyone else in the mess hall was wisely giving him a wide berth but Cor was aware of one figure approaching from the herd and it wasn’t diverting. Still, he refused to address it until it sit across from him._ _

__At least Clarus Amicitia had the grace to look bashful._ _

__“Thank you for wearing clothes. I appreciate it,” Cor began, moody and sharp in the way only an old friend of the shield could get away with, and he intended to push that leeway._ _

__Clarus didn’t answer right away. He considered. That made Cor shift his focus too. If the other had come to apologise he didn’t want to hear it. He prepared to tell him to shove off and take his apology with him._ _

__“It’s difficult for him,” Clarus said softly. “You know that.”_ _

___It wasn’t at all what Cor expected the shield to say. He found his anger starting to falter. “Does that mean you have to… engage at every corner you pass?” Cor said, trying to keep it going._  
“Yes,” Clarus said simply. “If that’s what he wants. He should have _something_ that he wants, shouldn’t he? He gets precious little else of what he desires. That’s the way when you’re king. For all he gives up there should be some small benefit. He has men who will listen. He has friends who care for the man and not only the title, one or two.” Clarus’ eyes looked sharply into Cor’s making it clear just who he meant by that.  
“We all give up something to him, don’t we?” 

__Cor cast his mind back 30 years to a passionate boy who wanted to serve his king in the most obvious and bold of ways and to a young man who wanted to serve his king in the most steady and subtle of ways, without fanfare or unnecessary risk, just a steady presence and a quiet strength. He realised that in all that time Clarus hadn’t really changed at all. He’d not needed to. He’d already been the perfect shield._ _

___The last of Cor’s frustration faded, his nod one of acceptance. He hadn’t listened to Clarus 30 years before, to his cost. He listened now._  
“Willingly,” he said softly.  
“He really is grateful for you,” Clarus said quietly, keen not to be overheard. “As much as it bothers you you never say a word. He… sent me with an invitation. For dinner. Tonight. He… promises to dress appropriately.” The last came with a little smile that Cor could only find disarming. 

__“Tell him I’ll see him tonight,” Cor said. “Not as much as you’ll see, but enough.”_ _

__Clarus chuckled. “Bring that wit with you. Gods know he could use a laugh.” The shield got to his feet, pausing to clamp his hand on Cor’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, Cor, so I’m going to give you some advice. Avoid the West corridor between 3pm and 3:15.” Then Clarus Amicitia winked and disappeared back from where he’d come._ _

__Cor Leonis sipped his bitter coffee and took a deep breath. Avoid the West corridor. Yeah, he could live with that._ _


End file.
